


Alcohol and Holiday Wishes

by charybdis_nerdrage



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: I'm sad so I wrote this instead of sleeping, Jack gets drunk alone for the holidays, Just friendly drinking, M/M, Never written a drunk person wish me luck, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21830494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charybdis_nerdrage/pseuds/charybdis_nerdrage
Summary: Jack has never been fond of the holidays, not on any planet really. This year he's decided to spend the night drinking alone, that is, until the knock of his doppelganger distracts him from his hunt for more booze.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Timothy Lawrence
Kudos: 30





	Alcohol and Holiday Wishes

Jack had been drinking for hours.

It was Mercenary day, and he was all alone in the dark penthouse. He had chosen to stay in the darkness, quickly shutting off all the lights when the dreadful day came. It terrified him, just the idea. He hated being scared of something. He punctuated his thought by pouring another shot, eager to down yet another one. His mask was off tonight, the synthetic skin itches after a full day of wear and tear, and he was clad in some sweats and an ancient Hyperion tee that had somehow survived everything, just like himself.

His reasons for hating this day were complicated, his grandmother had already tainted the holiday when he was a child, but in college he did try and break through those feelings, accept the spirit of it. It was different holidays for each planet, but either way they had the same purpose: show someone how much you care. The problem was, no one really cared about him, not anyone in years. Everyone that had given him a gift, they ended up being traitors in the end. Filthy traitors. His thoughts drifted to Angel. He had stopped giving her gifts lately, though he gave her many in previous years to compensate for his lack of any genuine ones, he decided to stop. He knew she would accept with an empty smile than never touch the gift again, just because he had thought about giving it to her.

Jack downed another shot, letting it burn down his throat and in the pit of his stomach. He had lost track of how many shots he had since he started, which probably meant the answer was simple: too many. 

He let out a frustrated groan. He knew 3 or 4 was his limit before he was close to drunk, and he was way past that, easy. A deep grumble escaped from his throat, that thought was hard work to get out, he deserved another shot.

He tipped the bottle over the shot glass, but nothing came out. Jack’s scarred brow furrowed, trying to focus. Okay, you can do this, handsome. No booze, means you have to get up. Jack slowly stood up, his body swaying along with the room. 

“Fuckin-” He gruffed, starting to walk across the penthouse to go to his kitchen. He had only moved in recently, now that he was the CEO. He had to admit the penthouse made it easier for him to get through the holiday. He didn’t need gifts when he had everything, but the loneliness was still there, sulking in the pit of his stomach, along with the booze in his system.

Jack reached in the cupboard of his kitchen. His hand groped around, looking at bottle after bottle of cheap rum and scotch. The back of Jack’s clumsy hand knocked down a bottle and it came crashing down to the kitchen. It didn’t crack on the counter, and Jack assumed it’d be fine. His other hand reached to grab it, but he grabbed just left of it, tipping it off the counter and onto the floor. He frowned deeply, his socks being soaked in expensive liquor.

After some trial and error, Jack finally got his hands on another bottle. At this point he stopped reading labels. Alcohol content = good, his famous holiday philosophy that he planned to stick by tonight. He opened the bottle with a satisfying pop and poured himself another shot, downing it with ease. They always went down easier the more he had, and he had a lot tonight.

Jack’s spinning mind was stirred by a soft knock at the door.

“Who th’fuck..” He mumbled, walking towards the door. Jack blinked, trying to actually focus his vision on one thing. It was him? No no, it was that kid, the one that looked like him, yeah. Jack squinted to try and clear his mind and get a good look at the kid. With a clearer image, the kid was shaking in his boots. “Uhmm..” Jack started, unsure what he was planning to say. “Whatcha want,” He said. “M’busy.”

“I uh, I can see that sir.” The doppelganger spoke up. The kid was carrying something, whatever it was, Jack didn’t pry into it. He was too drunk to care or listen.

“Cool cool, Uhh… imma get back to work.” Jack gave him a drunk smile and disappeared from the doorframe. His drunken self forgot to lock the door though, and the kid panicked.

“Sir! You uh-” He began, but Jack was already gone. “Goddamnit.” He spat, and let himself into the penthouse. He looked around for Jack. “Sir? Sir you forgot to lock your door… I’d assume that’s important.”

Jack was curled up in a ball on the expensive couch cushions, clutching the bottle in hand. He looked up at the kid and smiled.

“Damnit,” Jack grumbled, his arms wrapped tight around his legs. “Can’t remember your name.” 

“Ja-” The doppelganger started.

“Nooo that’s confusing!” Jack whined. “Gimme a better one.”

The kid sighed heavily. Jack wasn’t going to remember this anyway, most likely. “Timothy.” Timothy answered irritably.

“Awwwe,” Jack snickered. “Timtams.” He stated, proud of himself.

“What?” Timothy frowned in confusion, then he let out a small chuckle. “ What the hell did I walk in on…” He asked himself.

“Shots!” Jack cheered, throwing his arms up drunkenly. “Ya want one, timmy?” Jack snickered at his hesitation.

“Sir I don’t want to black out.” Timothy reasoned.

“Not how drinkin’ works.” Jack laughed. “You’ll be fine!” Timothy sighed heavily and sat on the couch next to Jack. Whatever Tim had with him when he arrived, he set it on the expensive coffee table in front of them. Jack eagerly poured his double a shot.

“This is a bad idea, I have work tomorrow.”

“It’ll be fine!” Jack repeated. “Gets after better…wait-” Jack narrowed his eyes, collecting his thoughts. “Gets better after like… 4.” He restated, now confident with the wording.

“Alright, but you better give me a raise.”

“Mhmmmm” Jack hummed and shoved the shot glass into Timothy’s identical fingers. Tim huffed at that, then drank the shot. He gagged, but pushed through it, and eventually the stuff was in his system. Jack was snickering like a toddler, enjoying the sudden company, even though it was technically himself.

Timothy grumbled a little and set the shot glass onto the coffee table, making use of the coasters that Jack wasn’t bothering with. Jack pointed at the things that Timothy had left on the table.

“What’s that?” Jack asked abruptly, still pointing at the objects. Timothy chuckled, a light blush of embarrassment spread over his cheeks. 

“Oh uh,” He sighed. “Just some papers I needed to give you, and uh… a present. For Mercenary day. Because you’re my boss and all.”

What had once been the playfully drunk Jack went quiet. A gift? He was getting a genuine gift?

“If you don’t want it I can-” Timothy started, the nerves starting to get to him.

“No! No no it’s fine! Imma open it now!” Jack insisted, grabbing the small box on top of the folders of paper. He held it in his hands excitedly.

“Oh! Oh uh… yeah go ahead.” Timothy answered.

Jack opened the brown box carefully, hesitant. It had been years since he had genuinely received a gift for the holidays. He felt… warm. It made him feel nice. Jack took out the gift. It was small, the best Tim could really afford so early into the job.

It was a watch. The face and trimmings were both gold, and clearly fake, but Jack was too drunk to care. The wrist strap was a deep brown leather, with a golden buckle. The entire thing was tacky, and just the way Jack liked it. Shiny. It may not be real gold but it was attract eyes. Jack was smiling, the warmth in his heart only growing more powerful at the gesture his employee had given him.

“Thanks Timtams,” Jack said softly, still smiling down at the watch. “I’ll try to remember to wear it.” He snickered at that, and Tim snickered with him. “How about you stay tonight, for the holidays.” Jack offered. “S’lonely this time of year.” Jack finished with a whine.

Timothy rolled his eyes. “Fine, but only tonight. You better remember I’m over or I’m dead.” He pointed out. Jack smiled and nodded.

Maybe the holidays would turn out alright for once.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never been drunk, being 15 and all, so this was kind of difficult to write, but I like a small challenge! I hope it came across, I didn't want to push it or make it too tropey. But honestly I accidentally made Jack scrooge and now he likes the holidays. So much for no cliches!
> 
> I hope it was a good read, the last long fic took a lot out of me, so I'm gonna cool down with some smaller ones.
> 
> Have a good night! And if y'all celebrate the holidays, I hope you enjoy them!


End file.
